


Weird Shit I've Seen At Crime Scenes

by butterfly_gARDEN



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterfly_gARDEN/pseuds/butterfly_gARDEN
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer investigate a double homicide with a twist
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 110





	Weird Shit I've Seen At Crime Scenes

**Author's Note:**

> Although the initial crime scene is grisly, it is only lightly described. Nothing graphic. There is, however, a lot of profanity. You've been warned.

Two of his fingers wrapped around two of hers. That was the new normal for Detective Chloe Decker and her work-LIFE!-partner when they arrived at crime scenes. Ever the gentleman, Lucifer lifted the yellow crime scene tape that stretched across the door so his beloved could walk into the house. The house interior was an open-concept space, the living room blending seamlessly into the kitchen area. Two bedrooms were off to the right side, off the kitchen. Forensic scientist Ella Lopez was already hard at work over the body of a man. Already, numbered placards could be seen throughout the space.

“Hi, Ella!” Chloe called out, “What’ve we got?”

“Hi, Chloe! Hi, Lucifer! Meet Louis Taylor, forty eight. COD is gunshot wounds to the chest, most likely from an automatic or semiautomatic weapon. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy report to find out which one was the actual kill shot. From what we can see, the shooter stood in the kitchen, in front of the breakfast bar, and the blood spatter indicates that was the only angle. His wife, Sophie, was in the first bedroom over there...the one with the closed door? She was also shot from the same position.”

“But here’s the weird thing. See the pile of shell casings next to the breakfast bar? It looks like our killer collected the shell casings, but didn’t take them with him. Like, he just left a whole bunch of evidence behind. I mean, who does that?” Ella replied.

“Mmmm, yeah, that IS strange. The perp is likely inexperienced,...maybe was so worked up by what happened, that they didn’t have the presence of mind to take the casings. I’ve seen it before, actually. Inexperienced perps don’t necessarily have that checklist of what to do going on in their head, you know?” mused Chloe. After a moment, she added, “Do we have an approximate time of death?”

“Neighbors heard gun shots about 6:00 this morning and called it in. They also heard a car start up and drive away, but it was still dark out, so nobody got a good look at the vehicle,” said Ella.

“What the fuck?” said a thin, creaky voice. The three of them jumped, and Chloe reflexively drew her gun. “What the fuck? What the FUUUUUUUCK!” the voice continued, before it began muttering to itself.

“Eckhardt and Mullins cleared the house, yes?” asked Chloe tersely as she crept toward the closet by the front door, with Lucifer right behind her.

“Yeah, yeah. The whole house. The wind blew the bedroom door shut on Sophie, there, and it locked, so we’re waiting for the lock guy, but that happened while we were here. The rest of the CSI team is working on the basement, now.”

Chloe opened the closet door suddenly, and cased it. It was, in fact, clear. As she walked toward the bathroom on the wall with the bedrooms, she called out, “Do we know if the Taylors had an elderly relative living with them? Like, a dementia patient?” She remembered all the times she had gone to the nursing home with her father to visit Grandma Decker. She had vivid memories of poor Mrs. Adams, sitting by the window in her wheelchair, swearing like a sailor in the same thin, creaky voice.

“According to what we’ve found out so far, Louis and Sophie lived here with their seventeen year old son, Robert. Robert’s room is in the basement, which is why the rest of us are down there. No mention of an elderly resident, though.”

The bathroom was clear, as was the bedroom next to it. That bedroom appeared to be a guest room; there was no indication that anyone had lived in that room for quite some time.

“What the FUUUUUUUCK?” said the voice again.

“Okay, we need to get into that bedroom NOW.” said Chloe.

Immediately, Lucifer walked over to the door. Just as he was about to do his lock mojo, Chloe stopped him. “Lucifer! Gloves!”

With a huff, Lucifer slid one Nitrile glove on his hand and turned the doorknob. Immediately, a gust of wind blew through the window, threatening to lock the door on them, again. The wind had been picking up that day, with the threat of rain on the horizon. Looking around, Lucifer saw a portable sewing machine sitting by the dresser closest to him. He grabbed it and propped the door open with it. Turning around, he was able to see the rest of the room, just as Chloe walked in. There was Sophie in a slumped, seated position on the floor, leaning against the foot of the bed, and on her head was seated...an African grey parrot.

“What the fuck?” said the parrot as he clambered off Sophie and began walking across the floor and out the door. “What the fuck?” he said again as he walked out the door, muttering to himself, leaving a grotesque trail of bloody parrot footprints.

“Detective,” said Lucifer, as he watched the parrot walk under a dry sink in the kitchen, “I’m beginning to suspect _fowl_ play.”

Chloe responded with an eye roll AND a laugh, which delighted Lucifer no end.

Ella snickered as she continued taking pictures of the body. “Well, he certainly is _fowl_ mouthed,” she said.

As the three of them watched, the parrot reemerged from under the dry sink, carrying a shell casing.

“Oh my God, you’re kidding!” said Ella.

Instantly, she switched to “video” on her camera and filmed the bird as he carried his prize over to “his” pile of shell casings.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to add it to the list,” she added.

“List? What list, Ella?” asked Chloe.

“You know,...the list. Weird Shit I’ve Seen at Crime Scenes.” she replied.

Chloe nodded her head in reply. “More like a BOOK, wouldn’t you say?”

“At THIS point? It is!” laughed Ella.

Ella then walked over to the pile of casings to take pictures, which annoyed the parrot to no end.

“MINE!” the bird screamed, running toward Ella with his wings out and his beak flapping. “MINE!”

“Hey, sorry, buddy, but this is evidence, and I have to take a picture,” Ella explained to the bird.

Apparently, the parrot had been the subject of more than one picture. He recognized what Ella was doing. Immediately, he walked over to the shell casing pile, puffed himself up, and posed proudly with his new treasure. “Goo’ boy, goo’ boy,” the parrot crooned.

While Ella was taking unintended glamor shots of the parrot with his trophies, Lucifer looked around the kitchen. There, he noticed a large wrought iron bird cage in front of the window in the dining nook. A small metal sign hung from the top edge of the metal cage identifying the name of the occupant as Loki, and Lucifer began laughing.

“Oh dearie me, that’s perfect!” he said.

Ella got up off the floor and looked where Lucifer was pointing. She, too, began laughing, and Chloe looked at both of them with her eyebrows raised.

“Loki was the Norse god of mischief,” Lucifer explained, much to Chloe’s amusement.

“Yeah, well, that’s fitting,” she agreed, looking at the small pile of policed brass.

As Ella pondered how she was going to bag the shell casings without losing her hand, the issue resolved itself. Loki took off and landed on the counter of the breakfast bar right next to Lucifer. Cocking his head to one side and looking at Lucifer with one big, black eye, he croaked, “FEED me.”

“I BEG your pardon?” said Lucifer, glaring at Loki indignantly.

“FEED me,” demanded the bird.

“I most certainly will NOT. How do you ask?” Lucifer replied.

“I sorry. Please,” said Loki, placatingly.

It did not escape Lucifer’s attention that both Ella and Chloe were laughing at him, but he walked over to the cage and peered in. The bird had plenty of water and seeds, but there was a bowl in the middle of the cage with slimy brown... _things_ in it, that might have been a banana at some point. Reluctantly, Lucifer pulled out the bowl and headed to the sink.

“Buddy, no!” Ella called out, filling a plastic bag with the shell casings. “I still gotta swab the drain for blood residue. Just...wipe the bowl in the trash. We have to collect it, anyway.”

Sighing, Lucifer did as he was told, then looked around, spotting a bunch of bananas on one of the counters.

“Wanna ‘nana,” said Loki. Lucifer looked at him with disdain before the bird added, “please.”

Lucifer grabbed and peeled a banana, and started cutting it up, muttering, “unbelievable.”

“Goo’ boy, goo’ boy,” Loki crooned.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, that was the point at which Detective Dan Espinosa walked in on them.

Dan began to chuckle, “New friend, man?”

“Hardly,” retorted Lucifer.

“Aww, come on, Lucifer, he’s really taking a shine to you,” teased Ella, which earned her a glare from her friend.

“Please,” he scoffed, “The devil doesn’t have friends of the avian variety.”

Lucifer placed the bowl of fruit in the cage. When Loki went in after it, Lucifer shut the door behind him with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Hey, Chlo-” said Dan, “It’s been confirmed that Sophie’s car is missing. We’ve put a BOLO out on it. Oh! And Eckhardt and Mullins finished their search of the property and came up empty-handed. So, we can’t account for Robert Taylor.”

“Okay, thanks, Dan,” said Chloe, smiling at her ex husband. “We’ll need him to come in for questioning. Let’s get an APB out for him. Although,...he MIGHT be in school right now, come to think of it…”

“He’s not,” said Dan. “He was expelled a few months ago for fighting. Apparently, he put a kid in the hospital with serious injuries. According to the neighbors we talked to, he’s got a violent streak. I checked the logs. We’ve been here quite a few times for him.”

Loki chose that moment to start talking, again. “Robbie! Robbie! Nooooooo! Robbie! Robbie! Nooooooo...Aaaaaaaaaa…!”

The four friends looked at each other, shocked.

“Yeah,...” said Dan, “I’m just going to...step outside and get an APB going…”

After a moment, Chloe spoke, “You know? I’m really beginning to like parrots.”

******

Back at the station, Chloe sat at her desk, looking at Robert Taylor’s information on the computer. Over the past five years, he had been arrested multiple times for domestic violence against the parents. _Robbie! Robbie! Nooooooo!_ How many times had Loki heard that phrase until he picked it up on his own? Chloe noted that Robert had one sealed court case on file, and the current case where the classmate was injured.

Lucifer walked up to her and placed a cup of coffee on her desk.

“Goo’ boy, goo’ boy,” Chloe said, in her best parrot voice, smiling at him. Lucifer smirked back, chuckling.

“Hey guys?” Ella called from the door to her lab. As the two began walking, Chloe’s phone rang.

“Go on ahead,” she said to Lucifer, with one hand over the phone. “I’ll catch up.”

When Chloe stepped into the lab, she joined Ella, Lucifer, and Lt. Robinson around the table. “Sorry about that. That was Dan. Our BOLO on Sophie’s car got a hit-a bodega about three miles from the Taylor’s house. Robert never went into the store, so nobody had a chance to talk to him, but Dan got a copy of the CCTV footage and it shows Robert fueling up. The store checked their transaction records for that time and he found that Robbie was using his mother’s debit card. He also walked over to a trash can and threw a large bag into it. Dan checked out the bag, and it’s filled with bloody clothing, and what’s worse, there’s an ankle monitoring device in there, too. He’s waiting for forensics to show up and take the bag into evidence. What do you have for us, Ella?”

“Guys, we don’t have anything on the shellcasings, yet, but IT gave me the hard drive to Robert’s computer, and it is deeply disturbing.”

“What the fuck?” For the second time that morning, LAPD was startled by the profane utterances of a parrot.

“Ella, did you seriously bring Loki here?” said Chloe, noticing for the first time that the parrot’s cage was situated in front of one of the windows.

“I had to, Chloe,” Ella said, “He has blood spatter all over his back, so he’s evidence. I actually have to process him...without losing my fingers.”

“No, but seriously, check this out,” said Ella, holding up hard copies of items she printed out.

The printouts were, in fact, deeply disturbing. Robert spent hours of his time researching spree killings, school shootings in particular-Columbine, Virginia Tech, Newtown, Parkland-among others. Chloe felt ill just reading the transcripts.

“Ugh, Dear Dad, not THIS again” said Lucifer under his breath. He HATED spree killers. As far as he was concerned, that was the worst corridor in Hell. They were always the heroes of their own story. The ones that Hell received took a specialist to break. Maze excelled at it. Fortunately, there were a few other demons who could break them almost as well as Maze had.

“And that’s not all, guys,” continued Ella, “This,” she picked up a spiral bound notebook, “is his personal journal. Dark. Very, very dark. He’s a very angry young man.”

Chloe was about to look at the journal, but her phone beeped, indicating a new text. Thinking it was Dan, Chloe swiped it and saw that it was from Linda Martin.

_Chloe call me ASAP. It’s an emergency._

“Excuse me, guys,” she said, heading for the door. “Hi, Linda?” they heard her begin. Almost immediately, Chloe stepped back into the room. “Linda, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? You’ll be talking to Ella, Lucifer, Lt. Robinson, and myself. Okay, Linda, go ahead, you’re on speaker.”

“Good morning, everyone.”

“Hi, Linda,” Ella and Lucifer answered back.

“Good morning, Doctor,” answered Lt. Robinson, at the same time.

“Ok, I reached out to Chloe in my professional capacity as a psychotherapist. As you all are well aware, legally, I am required to break doctor/patient confidentiality if I feel a patient is a risk to themselves or others. And frankly, in all my years as a therapist, this is only the second time I’ve ever had to do this.

“Hang on, Linda, let me grab a pen,” said Chloe, opening her notebook and taking the pen Ella held out to her. “Okay, Linda, go ahead. Who are we talking about?”

“Okay, the patient’s name is Robert Taylor, and he goes by ‘Robbie’. He’s only been my patient for a few weeks, and it’s under a court-order; it’s one of the terms of his bail release. He’s a very disturbed, very angry young man, and I’m concerned that he may be about to cause serious harm.”

The four people in the lab gave each other concerned looks.

“So, a little background on him to catch you up to speed on why I’m calling. According to his parents, Robert started becoming angry when he was about twelve. He was severely bullied, starting in middle school, and as a result, he went from a fairly laid-back, happy kid with a straight A average to a sullen, angry young man who barely passed his classes. He stopped socializing, dropped out of Boy Scouts, which, up to that point he’d loved, and immersed himself in his computer. The parents admit that they didn’t take any action on his behalf about the bullying because, and I quote, ‘we thought the school would handle it’. They also admit that they never exerted any parental control over his internet usage.”

“Robbie’s behavior has become increasingly violent over the years, he’s had numerous arrests, and recently, he was expelled from his high school in Venice Beach after he severely injured another student, which is why he’s awaiting trial. My understanding is that the DA is considering trying him as an adult.”

“I’ve been seeing him because I’m one of the only therapists in his radius after the family moved here from Venice Beach. His family moved to this area after his expulsion and arrest, hoping to get a fresh start for their son. They’re working on getting him into an alternative high school near here for troubled youth. Robert is required to wear an ankle monitoring device as a term of his release. He can only go ten miles from his home-either to go to school, or to work. ”

“The parents admit that they are frequent targets of his anger, and they seem really intimidated by him. But, they also admit that they never considered getting counseling for him because they figured, and I quote again, ‘it was just teenage angst and he’d grow out of it’. Even now, with his arrest, they seem to be in complete denial that their son’s anger issues are pathological, at this point.”

“I saw him yesterday for our regularly scheduled session, but things seemed...off.”

“How so, Linda?” asked Chloe.

“Well,” said Linda, “He had this air of...finality about him. For a therapist, that’s a huge red flag. It’s very often an indication that something major is going to happen. Robbie told me that ‘everything was in place’, but I couldn’t get him to elaborate any further. But what really concerns me is that he kept saying that he was going back to, and I quote, ‘where everything started and set things to right’, that he was going to ‘clear the last obstacle’ and nothing could stop him. He seemed almost HAPPY about it, and he seemed at peace with his decision. Guys, I don’t need to tell you that these are MAJOR red flags.”

“Then, today, he didn’t show up for his appointment.”

“That’s out of the ordinary for him?” asked Chloe.

“Very. He comes in daily at 8:00am. His parents always bring him. If they can't make the appointment, they always call. Today, they didn’t show up and there was no phone call, which is why I had to call you. I was concerned yesterday, but when he didn’t show up today, I had enough evidence, professionally speaking, to support calling you. I’m very concerned about this young man. He is clinically depressed, and has a lot of anger management issues that haven’t been addressed, and frankly, I feel he has the capability to cause a great deal of harm.”

“Linda, our forensics team found an opened gun cabinet in the basement storage area. Does Robert know how to use firearms?” Chloe asked.

Linda heaved a sigh. “Yes, his father admitted that he and Robert used to go target shooting together. His father viewed it as a father/son bonding activity, and felt that, and I quote, ‘if he got it all out of his system at the range, he wouldn’t be so angry’. I mean, don’t misunderstand. I KNOW a lot of people go to the firing range when they’re angry. They take their anger out on paper targets so they don’t take it out in more inappropriate ways, but they don’t have the untreated emotional issues that THIS young man has.”

“Dr. Martin, Lt. Robinson, here. Are we talking about a potential suicide by cop situation?”

“I certainly wouldn’t rule that out, Lieutenant, and judging from the things Robbie said yesterday, it’s certainly a possibility. But I’m also concerned about the possibility that he intends to harm others, as well. His parents have been a target of his anger for so long, I was wondering if you could go by the house and do a wellbeing check.”

When Chloe took too long to answer, Linda said, “Oh, God, they’re dead, aren’t they?! I’m too late. They were 'the last obstacle', weren't they?!”

“Linda, you can’t blame yourself for this,” said Chloe, attempting to comfort her friend. “They’ve been dead several hours. He shot them early this morning. It’s not your fault, there was nothing that could have been done to save them. You did everything you were supposed to do. You couldn’t have saved them. All we can do is try as hard as we can to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Dr. Martin,” said Lt. Robinson, “Ella Lopez was able to access the information on Robbie’s hard drive. By what we’ve been able to see, your patient had a morbid fascination with spree killings. Did he share anything with you about this?”

“That’s the other of my MAJOR concerns, Lieutenant,” Linda answered. “He never admitted researching spree killings per se, but I feel you should all know that he specifically felt a kinship with Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, the young men responsible for the Columbine school shooting. He said that they understood how he felt. Eric Harris had kept a journal, and excerpts from that journal have been used in various articles that Robbie had read. He felt a bond with what that young man had said. In his words, ‘he got me’. Robbie feels socially isolated and rejected because of the ongoing bullying, and now he’s pathologically angry.”

“So, in your professional opinion, Dr. Martin, when he told you that he was going beck to ‘where everything started’,” said Lt. Robinson, “is there a possibility that he intends to attack a school?”

Linda drew a deep breath before replying, “In my professional opinion,...I feel that there is a distinct possibility that Robbie intends to attack a school.”

“Thank you, Dr., this is very valuable information,” said Lt. Robinson as he made a hasty retreat out the door, phone in hand. Very quickly, he updated the APB on Robbie Taylor, indicating that he was possibly armed and dangerous, and that he shouldn’t be approached without backup. He then made the appropriate call to the school department. Most of the L.A. schools would be on high alert, with an increased police presence, but the Venice Beach schools were on partial lock down. No one would be allowed in or out of the buildings. All outdoor activities were cancelled, and students in upper grades could walk to classes, but indoors. All school lunches were indoors, and additional police officers would be assigned to patrol the areas around each school.

“Linda, I can’t thank you enough for calling,” said Chloe, while all this was going on.

“You’re welcome, Chloe. And Chloe? Please stay safe!” she answered.

“I will, Linda, thank you.”

“Good bye, Linda!” Ella and Lucifer called out, respectively.

"Well, shit, THAT sucks," said Ella.

It broke Chloe’s heart that school shooter drills were as much a part of her daughter’s life as fire drills, that THIS was her daughter’s reality. It wasn’t fair that young children had to embrace this possibility as part of their life. But then again, her greatest heartbreak on her job as a homicide detective was cases involving children. More than that, though, Chloe was terrified. What she couldn’t show her colleagues was how frightened she, as a mother, felt at that moment. Because AT that moment, her only child was in middle school in Venice Beach.

******

“What the FUUUUUUUCK?”

Ever mindful of his detective’s stance on PDA, Lucifer, sat at Chloe’s desk, surreptitiously reaching forward and taking her hand behind a pile of case files. Giving it a squeeze, he said very gently, “She’ll be safe, Detective, we’ll catch the bastard before he causes any more harm.” Chloe smiled at him appreciatively, and nodded her head, the fear never leaving her eyes.

Hearing Loki squawking, however, Lucifer looked over toward Ella’s lab and saw Loki, flying around, dive-bombing his friend. “Excuse me a minute, Detective, our avian sleuth seems to be rather displeased with our dear Ms. Lopez at the moment.”

Walking swiftly into Ella’s lab, Lucifer glared at the wayward parrot and said, “Here now, what’s all this?”

Loki landed on the table in the middle of the lab, and glared back at Lucifer, wings spread, clacking his beak.

“Dude! I was serious, before,” said Ella, “I have to take pictures of the blood spatter on his back, and I need to get swabs.”

Lucifer continued to glare at the parrot in question. Loki, to his credit, lowered his wings and hung his head.

“I sorry,” he said.

Ella seized the moment to start photographing the parrot’s back.

“Goo’ boy, goo’ boy,” Loki crooned.

A moment later, Ella began swabbing the bird.

“What the FUUUUUUUCK,” Loki exclaimed, but cooperated nonetheless, because Lucifer continued to glare at him.

“Goo’ boy,” said Ella, as she finished up and placed Loki back in his cage.

As Lucifer had first walked into the lab, a police officer announced over the scanner that the Taylor’s missing vehicle had been found a block away from Trixie’s middle school. When Lucifer returned to Chloe’s desk, he saw Dan, who had returned to the precinct, heading over her. The two parents exchanged panic-stricken glances. Ethically, neither one of them could go to the school and take Trixie out. In fact, it was forbidden outright. They ran the risk of inciting panic, and that, in turn, could have created a situation where children were in harm’s way. But! They were detectives. They could park at the school and stage their vehicles.

Unable to contain herself any more, Chloe got up from her chair, grabbing her keys. “I can’t sit here any longer!” she stated, “I have to get to my daughter.”

“Yeah, I’m coming with you,” said Dan, running to his desk to grab his things.

He needn’t have bothered. As they were getting ready to leave, they heard a major disturbance over at the front desk. Looking over, the three of them saw Maze dragging in...Robert Taylor. Behind her were two gloved officers holding two semiautomatic rifles, and several boxes of ammunition. The three of them, along with Lt. Robinson, hurried over to the front desk.

Maze looked at them in disgust. “Caught this guy trying to break in through the fire exit at the back of the cafeteria at the Little Human’s school. Do something with him!”

Chloe looked at the clock, 12:55. Given the traffic conditions, given how Maze liked to play with her captives before she brought them in, she had probably caught Robbie around 12:00-12:05, right during school lunch. Not only that, but it would have been the time when First Lunch was leaving, and Second Lunch was coming into the cafeteria. Most of the students in the school would have been in there. If Maze hadn’t caught him...

“He...looks a little roughed up,” said Lt. Robinson, casually.

“What. He fell down,” said Maze, smugly, walking away.

Chloe looked at Lucifer, dumbfounded.

“I...may have informed Maze that the urchin could be in a spot of trouble,” said Lucifer, shrugging.

Disregarding her PDA policy, Chloe wrapped her arms around him, saying, “Thank you, Lucifer.”

Smiling down at her, Lucifer brushed her hair out of her face and replied, “You’re welcome, Detective, but as you know, I promised you I would do anything to protect your little urchin, and I meant it.”

Chloe nodded and again, her eyes tearing up, and again said, “Thank you.”

Their moment was a brief reprieve, however. As Robbie was being led to Booking, past Ella’s lab, he caught Loki’s attention. At that point, the parrot began a major commotion of his own. Flapping around in his cage, sending seeds and feathers flying every which way, Loki began screaming-SCREAMING-at the top of his lungs, “Robbie! Robbie! Nooooooo! Robbie! Robbie! Nooooooo...Aaaaaaaaaa…!”

“Decker,” said Lt. Robinson, a broad smile on his face, “paperwork can wait. Go home. Hug your daughter. Espinosa! You too!”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Chloe. After a brief moment, she said to the group, “You know, I’ve made up my mind. I really, really like parrots.”

******

“No no, Ms. Lopez absolutely out of the question. For one thing, parrots are FAR too messy for my liking,” said Lucifer, looking at the feather and seed hull-strewn floor around the cage, “and for another, I have far too many windows in my penthouse. That would be way too much temptation to escape for our winged friend, here.” He continued chopping up a fresh banana for the bird in question.

“Nana,” crooned Loki from his cage, “Goo’ boy, goo’ boy...”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Ella, “It’s just that Chloe isn’t allowed to have pets, and my superintendent definitely wouldn’t want Loki around. It’s not just that he’s loud, it’s what he says that loud, you know? And...and...he really seems to like you.”

“Well,” said Lucifer gesturing down the length of his body, “What’s not to like?”

Ella had snickered at her friend’s comment, but in reality, she was disappointed. Despite the fact that Loki had given her all kinds of grief, she had reached out to almost everyone at the precinct trying to find a new home for the little parrot; she definitely had a soft spot for him. If she was unsuccessful, the bird would have to go to their local pound.

“Poor little guy. He’s had such a rough life. I went through Sophie’s computer and found out that Loki was a rescue. His first owner was the one who taught him his...colorful metaphors. The owner died, and Loki was sent to a shelter. The Taylors adopted him about two years ago, and now the poor thing is all alone again. This is just so sad. Parrots are really intelligent creatures-they grieve, they get traumatized,...this is going to be really tough for him...and Loki’s a hero. He helped break the case. He deserves better than to be sent to the pound!”

At that moment, Lt. Robinson walked into the lab with a huge smile carrying a parrot jungle gym. “For our hero, Officer Loki,” he said, placing the jungle gym on top of Loki’s cage. “Always wanted an African grey.”

“Lieutenant! That’s it! You always wanted an African grey, and this little guy needs a new home. It’s a perfect match. Can you give him a home? I just don’t want him to end up in the pound,” Ella looked at him with a hopeful smile.

“Well, we have two dogs, three cats, a cockatoo, and three kids, oh!-and a gerbil. I don’t think my wife would be very happy with me if I brought home a parrot,” he said, but he caught the look in Ella’s eyes. Clearing this throat, he continued with his signature smile, “But...I’m a lieutenant. That’s my office,” he said pointing with his thumb behind him. “I think Officer Loki would be right at home in my front window, there. That way he can keep an eye on all of you,” he winked.

Aaaaaaaand, that’s how the precinct got a new mascot. What the fuck?


End file.
